


Every Thursday Night

by MsOzma



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Drabble, F/M, Fluff, Humanstuck, coffee shop AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-11
Updated: 2014-02-11
Packaged: 2018-01-11 22:28:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1178712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MsOzma/pseuds/MsOzma
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Feferi is just trying to scrape by making earnings at a coffee shop, and Eridan really needs to stop ordering caffeine at 2 in the morning.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Every Thursday Night

**Author's Note:**

> I don't even know, I was bored and still working out edits to the next Futures Abound chapter, then this unholy mess popped out.
> 
> Plus, it's my birthday, so I thought instead of trying to "accurately" portray my favorite characters and their relationships, I would indulge in my OTP.
> 
> Just know that this is an incredibly rough work because fuck editing.

At first, you couldn't stand Eridan Ampora.

He would show up every Thursday night ten minutes 'till two (and ten minutes before you close), wearing some outfit taken right out of the pages of the latest hipster fashion webizine.  Then he'd order, quote, an "iced, half caff, ristretto, venti, four-pump, sugar free, cinnamon, dulce soy skinny latte."  It was then that you'd politely remind him that he was not in a 24-hour Starbucks, that this was just some local fair trade coffee shop in Berkeley, and that your stock is pretty limited during the day let alone 10 minutes before close.  Then he'd sigh in aggravation as if he was expecting a different answer ( _this was every Thursday night_ ) and then he'd ask you to make the closest thing.  The closest thing for you often meant taking five minutes trying to get out the stuff you already stocked away for the night and spend another five minutes trying to make something resembling his complicated order.  Of course it was never good enough the first time, and he'd ask you to add some cream or skim milk or whole milk or do you have chocolate sauce no sir well I _guess_ I'll just have sugar then.  And after you had managed to finish with his complicated request (which he acted as though was only a tolerable substitute for what he originally wanted), he'd sit in the store for another half hour after closing and stare out the window while slowly sipping away at his drink.  Then he'd leave without even saying goodbye--without even _tipping_.  And of course you'd hastily try to get everything cleaned and closed as soon as you could so that you could hopefully squeeze in five hours of sleep before your 9:30 class.

But the worst part--the absolute _worst part_ about Eridan coming every Thursday night--was how he would talk to you as you made his drink.

Aside from micromanaging what you were doing, he would go on and on and on about his so-called "problems."  He'd talk about his rich military hero of a father, and how he both loathed and idolized him.  He'd talk about his creep of an older half-brother (Cronus, apparently), and how he despised him and his choice to be a musician.  He'd talk about his ex-girlfriend Vriska (whose name you think you remember hearing in a core class you once took), and how much of a bitch she was, and how he was just **_so completely_** _(not)_ over her.  Then he'd talk about his friends, and how this girl he knows designed the outfit he's wearing, and how he and his best friend watched the terrible rom com together, and how you need to see this rom com to properly understand how awful it is, and then proceed to try and convince you to go out _pay_ to watch it in the theater because "Trust me, it's that bad."

He would talk.  And talk.   _And keep talking._

And you as the nice barista just smiled and nodded through all of his snobbish bullshit.

Never once did he let you even get a word in edgewise, except when he asked _you_ a question.  Heaven forbid the rich white boy realize that the young black barista making his coffee was just barely scraping by on scholarships, loans, and this closing job at the coffee shop, because apparently being born into a wealthy family doesn't mean you have access to any of its funds, especially if that means paying for you to go to school at UC Berkeley in order to study marine biology and not business or political science like your mother wants.  Nor does it matter that there are plenty of other kids at this school struggling to get through, just like you.  How convenient it must be for him to have his father footing the bill for everything.

No joke, he actually once said to you with a serious face, "It's not my fault there are poor people out there.  Maybe they should try to make somethin' of theirselves instead of begging me for a handout."

You nearly gagged.

But one night was different.  He came in with a different but similarly ridiculous outfit like every other night, but he didn't come in with the same scowl he always did.  His cheeks were puffy, and you could tell even with his thick glasses on that he had been crying.  And instead of ordering his usual, he said:

"Just coffee.  Two creams."

And he didn't even get angry when you accidentally gave him three.  He just said it was fine, took the cup and sat in the chair like he did every night, this time not looking out the window, but at the cup of coffee that he was hardly touching.

Normally, you were used to the silence between the two of you.  In fact, after spending 10 minutes listening to him running his mouth off, you actually reveled in the quiet that usually occurred after you were done with his drink.  But without his incessant chatter while you were making the for-once-simple beverage, the quiet was uneasy.  You found yourself at a loss of what to do, as even cleaning seemed really awkward, like you were trying to avoid the feeling of the room.  About 15 or so minutes since he sat down, you decided to stop cleaning the same surface you had been cleaning for what seemed like forever to put up the chairs in the café.

"Do you want me to leave?"

His voice caught you off guard, enough for you to stop mid-way as you put a chair up on the table.  You looked in his direction, only to see he was still looking forlornly at his probably lukewarm coffee.

"You don't have to put up with me if you don't want," he continued.  "Just tell me to leave and I'll go."

You rolled your eyes, finally putting up the chair you were holding.  "And what, possibly get fired when you complain to my boss in the morning?"

This is when he finally looked your way with his bright blue eyes, one thick brow arched on his face.  "I wouldn't complain."

"Don't even lie," you replied.  "You are _so_ the type to complain to someone's boss if they do something you don't like.  You complain about the way I make your ridiculous drink, you complain about your personal life, you complain about _everything_."

You had run your mouth too much to take any of it back, and realized only too late that he could very well complain about the things you were saying to him then.  To your luck, he didn't seem fazed by it.  He just took a sip of his coffee and started talking again.

"You haven't heard your boss saying someone complained about you yet, have you?"

You had to snort at this.  "Of _course_!  It's bound to happen, working here.  Lots of cranky customers with either too _little_ caffeine or too _much_ caffeine."

"Has your manager ever said anything about a guy like  _me_ complaining?"

This actually caught you off guard.  Because she hadn't _ever_ mentioned a guy like Eridan complaining about you.  In fact, early on in your job you once asked her if a guy with Eridan's appearance had been a frequent late-night customer of the shop (as you weren't sure at the time if you would have to be dealing with him a lot or not), and she had no idea who or what you were talking about.  It was actually surprising to think a guy like Eridan wouldn't have once complained about your barista skills.  He seemed to read this from your expression, and went on.

" _Exactly_ ," he said, picking up the coffee to take another drink.  After he finished with that drink, his gaze turned right to your eyes.  "Say all the bad things you want about me," he continued, fiddling with his coffee cup a little, "but I know when to not be an asshole."

You figured he probably wouldn't be complaining to your manager at this point anyway, so you held no qualms opening your mouth about him again.  "Yes, because ten minutes before the café closes is  _definitely_ a great time to be an asshole!"

He looked at you, rather shocked at this outburst.  You weren't sure why--he had it coming for a while.  In typical fashion, he shot you an indignant look.  "So what time would you _rather_ I come?"

You sighed, now propping your elbows up on the table you were going to put chairs up on before this wonderful conversation started.  "It's not so much about the timing as it is the amount of work you have me put in for one drink.  And yeah, it's also about you staying after I've _already closed_."

He looked like he was about to make some snappy retort, but somehow he stopped himself.  He looked at you with some sort of resigned anger that reminded you how he had come in looking like he was crying--how he had probably been having a legitimately difficult night, even for a rich kid.

You felt a little guilty.  Just a little.

"Fine," he finally replied, getting up from his seat and leaving his cup.  "Guess I'll fuckin' leave then."

He walked through the door and slammed it hard behind him, causing the windows to rattle a little.  After he left, you were still for a moment, before you began really cleaning and putting away everything.  As you finished your nightly duties, a part of you was unsure if he really wouldn't complain to your boss in the morning.  Even stranger, a part of you was worried not about potential employment consequences, but also about the boy himself.  He did seem really down, and even though he had it coming to him, you certainly didn't help

You don't know why, but as you finally turned the lights off and locked the door behind you, you were hoping that you would still see Mr. Ampora come next Thursday.

* * *

See Eridan you did, but not in the fashion you had expected.

First, he came a half an hour earlier than usual.  That in itself was shocking.  And secondly, he came wearing a full on naval uniform.

"One coffee, two creams," he said, completely ignoring the shocked expression on your face.  You were more than a little unprepared as you shakily began preparing the coffee.

 _Shit shit shit,_  you thought.   _I had no idea he was in the military._

Eridan seemed to watch as you nervously prepared his simple coffee with two creams for a little bit, before he sees how nervous you are walking it toward him and he let out a sigh.  

"Weren't you ever _listening_ to me?"

The question caught you off-guard so much that you actually almost tripped and dropped his coffee.  You manage to save it, before you can finally set it on the counter for him.  "W-what do you mean?"

"Vriska?" he asked.  You draw up a blank.  "My ex?"  Still blank.  "I told you that we met in the NROTC program here?"

Oh yeah.  You actually _did_ recall that.

"I do a lot of NROTC stuff on Thursdays," he continued bringing the coffee cup to his usual table, and sitting down.  "And I'm usually doing stuff until late at night.  Which usually means me hurrying to get suitably dressed enough to get some coffee here.  But since _you_ have such a problem with me coming here so late, I forwent the changing today."  He picked the cup up to his mouth, smirking like he was actually proud of himself.  "You're welcome."

As he took his long sip of coffee, you were trying to settle everything about what he said that didn't make sense.  Which was a lot.

"But..." you began, and his eyes broke from the coffee to you.  "...But why would you go through all of that trouble to put on those stupid clothes?"

The way he looked then made it seem like you just gave him an irreparable offense to his reputation.  " _Excuse me!?_ "

"And why would you go out of your way to a coffee shop that doesn't even sell the drink you want?   _Especially_ when you know it's about to close?"

He seem flabbergasted at this, and he struggled to find his retort.  But you were quicker still.

"And what could you possibly be doing for the NROTC that takes up your time until one in the morning?  I realize it's strict, but I've never heard of it lasting until past midnight--"

"I'm in a leadership position!" he quickly responded.

"Which should take only a few hours during the day and weekend!" you stated.

You never thought your family's military background would ever serve to help you, up until this point.  Eridan was just staring at you feebly trying to form some sort of explanation--anything--to explain himself.

But he couldn't.  And as if just realizing that, he got up, leaving his coffee, and muttering to himself "stupid goddamn asshole what is wrong with you" as he walked out the door.

The rest of the night ended uneventfully, with only one person coming in for a hot chocolate and then leaving.  As well as being happy that you got to leave get everything done early on a Thursday night for once, you also felt a mixture of confusion and relief about Eridan.

Confusion because now you know he's been coming here intentionally even though it's out of his way, and for some reason he doesn't want you to know why.

Relief, because he actually  _did_ come.

* * *

There's things people never tell you about working in a coffee shop.

When you managed to get this job after months of looking, your original ideas going in were so romantic and simplistic.  Get easy money by making people coffee and other beverages, while listening to soothing ambient music.  It was also a fair trade shop, so a part of you felt just a little bit more politically moral for it.

If someone had told you then that you'd be busy making thirty drinks at once for the desperate intern who was forced to buy drinks for the people he was working for, or that you would have to deal with insane customers who couldn't understand that there was no such thing as "diet water," or that customers would never tip you, or that you would never get the smell of coffee beans out of your hair or clothes ever again, you would have never taken the job ever.  Even if your mom still wasn't supporting you.

You could always quit, but it was hard enough to find this job.  Not to mention your boss is actually pretty nice, even if she doesn't realize that the customer is not always right and is in fact sometimes a douchebag.

But there were certain things that made it worthwhile.  For instance, you yourself hated the everlasting smell of coffee that never seemed to come off your person, but your boyfriend Sollux loved it.  When you'd crawl into bed with him late at night, he would smile and sniff your hair saying you smelt like caffeine heaven.  Of course, the kid also lived on caffeine, which was always a source of annoyance for you.  He always had a hard enough time taking care of himself even with the caffeine intake, and though you were no medical doctor, a part of you felt like it was really bad for him to be taking as much caffeine as he did while he was also taking medication for his bipolar disorder.  But he was really cranky without the coffee--moreso than regularly--so you tried to let it go.

Another thing that you liked were some of the regulars.  For instance, there was one older couple that came in every Saturday afternoon that bought a cup of tea to share.  They would sit so close and nuzzled to each other that they'd often have to move just to reach their tea.  You loved watching how adorable they were from afar.

You also liked a woman who came in Sundays and Mondays with her laptop and ordered a decaf.  You two rarely ever spoke, but she always dressed so elegantly, and the little bit you've seen of her writing was incredible.  Plus, she always gave a good tip.

And then there was a young girl who would come by with her dog, who never really ordered anything, but was apparetly a good friend of your boss.  Soon after you started, the both of you became relatively good friends as well.  She came by everyday to say hi, or to exchange gossip, or even just to let the workers pet her dog.  She was your absolute favorite.

Of course, sometimes regulars don't always show up when you plan on them to, for one reason or another.  And it's only that one time they don't show up that you realize how much they make your day (or night) by coming into the shop, even if it's just to say hello.

That's what you realized the first Thursday night Eridan didn't show up.

It happened the week after you called him out on his bluff.  You actually waited a while for him, having a coffee with two creams ready for him half an hour before close.  Even more than this, you had a whole bunch of ingredients to make whatever concoction he may want to make, if he dared go in that direction again.  You even waited a few minutes after you were supposed to close, thinking he might just be late.

But he didn't come.

Somehow, you were sad that he hadn't shown up.  You put everything away, poured out the coffee you had been keeping heated for him, and got everything done in record time.  You thought maybe he was just still embarrassed about what happened the previous week, and were sure that he would come by next week with some convoluted explanation of what happened.

Next week came.  Still, no show.

It continued for three more weeks after this, Eridan not swinging by for his late night coffee order, and with each week he didn't come by it made it a little sadder to work on Thursdays.  You wondered if he perhaps moved away and if somehow that night was his last chance to impress you--

Wait.   _Impress_ you?  Why would he want to impress you?

You wished you knew what his deal was, why he had been coming to see you every Thursday night right before you closed.  And you also wished you knew why he felt like he needed to hide it.

In the midst of all of this, something rather awful happened to you.

* * *

 

"I'm sorry, FF."

Sollux never quite lost his lisp, even after all of the dental work he got just to straighten his teeth out.  It was not as pronounced anymore, but you could still hear it as he said "sorry."

"I just...I never got closure with AA, you know?  I have feelings for you, but I still have strong feelings for her, and..."

He looked at you with his heterochromatic eyes as if expecting some sort of understanding and recognition from you.

It was all you could do to maintain a blank expression.

"...And it wouldn't be fair of me to lead either of you on.  I just...I just need a break.  From relationships in general.

"And...I mean, who knows?  Maybe we'll get back together again someday.  If that's even something that you wanted."

Sollux was being completely fair and reasonable.  You knew that--probably more than he did.

It was with that in mind that you forced a smile and hugged him, saying, "I understand, Sollux."

* * *

 

The next night you were crouched behind the counter, crying your eyes out, holding onto that stupid picture of Sollux you still hadn't managed to get rid of.

You should have had no reason to be crying the way you were.  Sollux was just being honest.  Wasn't that all you've ever really asked of him?  He could have just cheated on you with Aradia, but he didn't.  He was upfront and admitted he still had feelings for her.  And he wasn't just leaving you for her--he was leaving to figure out what he really wanted.

It didn't stop it all from hurting so much.

You heard the door to the shop be pushed open, and you realize that your personal moment of despair was over.  You still have a job to do, even if it's one in the morning.  You wiped your face as best you could, and just hoped that maybe--just maybe--the customer wouldn't ask anything.

"Hello!" you said as you got up off the floor, wearing the best smile you could, but still sniffling.  "How can I help--"

The person before you stared at you in shock.  To be honest, you were rather surprised to see him.

"What's wrong!?" Eridan exclaimed as he ran toward the counter.

And for some stupid reason, you began crying again.

* * *

"Wow.  He left?  Just like that?"

Eridan was sitting across from you with a mug of his coffee with two creams, and you with your own mug of hot chocolate with whipped cream.  You wish you could say it was Eridan who made it all for you, but you still had to make it.  He just agreed to foot the bill, which wasn't that sincere a gesture considerng you worked there and had access to as much free drinks as you wanted, but you took it as an attempt to be nice, which was more than enough at that point.

You nodded slightly as you pulled the warm mug of hot chocolate to your face, gulping down its sweetness.

He didn't say anything to that, simply letting his eyes trail back down to his coffee, which he had _still_ barely touched.  At least, compared to how much you've already drank your hot chocolate.

Then he said something bitterly under his breath.

"What?" you asked, barely able to hear what he said.

His eyes flitted to you and away again, back to staring at that small pool of coffee.  After a moment, he finally opened his mouth and said it.

"He doesn't deserve you."

The words hung in the room as he took a sip of his coffee, and your eyes remained intent on him.  After his sip, he continued.

"If he can't see you're _clearly_ the superior choice, then you don't need him."

 _The "superior choice"?_ you questioned to yourself, not without some irritation.  You really couldn't believe this kid.

"It wasn't about superiority, Eridan," you snapped.  "It was about his _feelings_.  For two different girls he _really cared about_.  Two girls who aren't any better than the other."

You took a quick drink of your hot chocolate before you had a chance to burst into tears again, which was good because you know it would just make this whole situation more uncomfortable than it already was.

Which...actually...

It wasn't that uncomfortable?

You somehow found it really easy to just... _talk to him._   Too bad he always had something crappy to say.

Eridan's thumb circled around the rim of his mug, he looking down at the coffee forlornly.  "Sorry," he mumbled.

Oh, who are you kidding?  It's not his fault that he's some rich, naive white kid who's probably never seen a speck of difference in his life.  You sighed, allowing your shoulders to untense as you did.

"It's okay," you replied, going back to your hot chocolate.  "You're just trying to help."

A silence fell between the two of you for a little bit.  But rather than it being awkward and uncomfortable, it felt...pleasant.  Like neither of you really needed words.

You're not sure if he felt the same way, as after only a few seconds he's already beginning to talk.

"You know, I think the last thing I ever expected comin' in was to see you cryin' behind your counter."

Your face got hot with embarassment.  "Oh, cod..."

"Cod?"

His eyebrow is cocked, as if confused by what you had said.  Hadn't this kid ever heard a good fish pun before?

"You know...'cod.'"  His eyebrow was still raised.  "Like...in place of 'God'?"  Still no sign of change.  "It's a fish pun--"

"I know what it is, I just think it's stu--"

He literally had to cover his mouth from saying the word "stupid."  God, this kid was great at talking to people.

You couldn't help but let out a laugh.

" _Stupendous_ , maybe?"

His lips upcurled into a smile--not just a smirk or a nervouse smile, an actual smile.  And... _wow._

"You're a lot more attractive when you do that, you know."

In a manner of seconds, Eridan's face was beet red, and it only caused you to laugh even more.

"And the award for most _gill_ ible boy goes to...!"  Your hands motioned to Eridan, and he immediately began to scowl.

"Whatever, at least I don't try to add fish puns into casual conversation."

You only laughed again at this.  " _Whale_ , hate on it all you want!  These puns are the reason why I'm the crack-up of the marine biology department!"

Suddenly he gazed up at you, instantly curious.  "You're a marine biology major?"

You nodded.  "Of course, you wouldn't know that, since you always come in here and talk about _yourself_ all the time.  I'd be surprised if you even knew my name!"

Eridan looked a little hurt at this comment, but hey, it was true.  But in almost a second, the hurt washed away, and he began in a matter-of-fact voice.  "Your name's Feferi.  It says so on your nametag."

"Wow," you giggled.  "Astute observation, Mr. Ampora!"

"And the only reason I come in here and talk about myself is because I'm too nervous to say anything otherwise."

Immediately after the words came out of his mouth, his eyes widened, and he began stammering as if to try to take the words back.  "I-I-I mean, I j-j-just, y-you know, you're so pretty."  His face went red, and his voice began cracking.  "No!  I m-mean yes!  You're pretty, but not in...I mean, but it's just really hard for me to talk to you during the day because you're alw-ways surrounded by your friends and other c-customers, and..."

So the cat was out of the bag.  You finally knew why Eridan had always come late at night, especially near closing.  He found it easier to talk to you when there was no chance of other people listening.

You're sure it took all of his willpower to look into your eyes seriously for once.

"...And...I couldn't ever stop talking about myself 'cause...I wanted to impress you."

You stared at him for a second, unsure how to respond to the inadvertent slip of his feelings.  No more than a few seconds passed by before he let out a groan and buried his face in his hands.

"I'm a fuckin' fool, openin' up like that, fuckin' _Christ_ , what is wrong with me, just ignore _everything I just said_ , fuck my life..."

He went on in his self-hate tirade for a little bit more as you watched him, still unsure how to respond.

Until you finally had a question.

"There's just one issue with that."

Eridan immediately stopped babbling and raised his head to look at you.  The look in his eyes read some strange mixture of dread and hope.

"If you like me so much, then why didn't you ever tip?"

Eridan seemed to process the question rather slowly, like a large tidal wave coming over him.  Then as if barely just comprehending what had been said, he raised his brow.

"You get tips?"

You stared at him like he had to be dumbest sack of shit on the planet.  "The jar?  On the counter?"

You motioned to the clear glass jar with the small sign saying, "College fund."  He looked at it for just a second, then back at you.

"I thought that was a charity or some shit for a kid's college fund."

You couldn't stop yourself from rolling your eyes.  " _No_ , it's a _tip jar_!  It's for _my_ college fund, retard!"

You're sure the "retard" comment was in bad taste, but seriously, you could not believe how stupid this kid was.  Besides, with some of the crap he's said to you, "retard" is hardly that offensive.  Or so you reasoned it.

"But," he began, "I thought only waiters and waitresses got tips?  Or domestic workers?"

You shook your head, rolling your eyes even harder than before.  "You are absolutely hopeless."

If he had any retort to that, he bit his tongue and looked back down at his coffee.  Then, as if being hit with a stroke of genius, he lifted his head.

"What if I made it up to you?"

Now it was your turn to raise an eyebrow.  "What do you mean?"

"What if I, uh...you know..."

"No, I really don't."

"...took you out on a date?"

" _What?_ "

You don't know why the question had thrown you for a loop.  He did just indirectly admit a few minutes ago that he had some huge infatuation of you.  Of course his next step would be to ask you out.

"Just one!" he remarked, as if trying to sweeten the deal.  "And, I mean, if you like it and you...end up wanting to go on another one, that'd be pretty...great.  But if not, then you never have to go out with me again!  And I'll never come back here, sailor's honor!"

You don't think Eridan's time in the NROTC gave him the right to call himself a sailor, but you didn't argue it.  Instead, you thought about the potential consequences of his offer.  About dating him or...

Or never seeing him on Thursday again.

"You'll need a lot of making up to do for my lost tips," you stated, still unsure.

"I'll take you to the best restaurant!" Eridan continued, his resolve unwavering.  "It'll make up for every lost tip, I promise!"

Your eyes drifted around the shop, still pondering his request.  Suddenly, you came up with a brilliant idea.

"How about we go on a date here?"

Eridan seemed confused by this, as this place--though had some great organic coffee--was not exactly expensive.

"You help me close," you explained, "every Thursday night.  To make up not only for my lost tips, but my lost nights of sleep.  Starting tonight."

The dissatisfaction on his face appeared instantly.  You knew it'd be too easy for him to buy you a really expensive dinner, and as tempting as that prospect was, you thought this would be a better use of his time.

_And besides..._

"Okay."

You heard Eridan's voice, and it broke you from your thought.  He was looking at you with such resolve it was almost breath-taking.

"I'll do it."

You let out a big smile.  "Great!"  You got up from your chair, clasping your hands together.  "Let's get started!"

"Wait, _now_?"  Eridan looked down at his barely started coffee.  "Can't I finish first?"

"Nope!" you responded.  "Now get your butt up and help me clean!"

He groaned in exasperation, but even as you turned away, you could tell he was smiling.  Because in his mind, he finally got the grand prize.

What he didn't realize was that you sort of won, too.  Because every Thursday night Eridan wasn't there, it was an empty night for you.  Even though you were sure to get a word in edgewise from now on, you couldn't help but think his incessant rattle, though somewhat jarring, something necessary to keep this place alive for you.  And you just ensured that he would be showing up again, no matter what.  Just the way it should be.

You even turned around to face him, matching his smile.

"I did miss you these past few weeks, you know..."


End file.
